


Increments

by mga_treks (mga1999)



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-14
Updated: 2010-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-12 15:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mga1999/pseuds/mga_treks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All this time you were convinced you were the one holding on to him for dear life, but as you looked into that blue, and felt the grip of his hand in yours, you saw that he was clinging to you just as tightly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Increments

**Author's Note:**

> First time, never had sex with a guy written for km_anthology. Beta'd by the wonderful linelenagain.

  
**Increments**   


 

You woke up one day and realized that breathing wasn't as hard as it had been the day before. When you first stepped on that shuttle, you were only able to breathe through copious amounts of alcohol. You didn't even remember how you got through your first few months of classes. The first semester was a blur, but for a sea of red uniforms passing you by. One thing stood out, brighter than anything. Bright enough to make it through the haze that was your grief over the life, the loved ones you left behind.

 

 _Blue._ You remember the blue interwoven with all that red. And a firm hand gripping your arm, guiding you along, keeping you from drowning. You remembered asking why once, early on, and he simply told you that he was just as lost as you were. You didn't believe him, but those simple words, and his continual presence, made you feel like you weren't alone. That you just might have a chance to pull yourself out of the hell your life had become.

 

***

 

You found your footing somewhere during the second semester. You no longer carried the flask with you everywhere. You no longer had a drink first thing in the morning. You started your shifts at the infirmary, and almost felt like a doctor again. _Almost._ You still had flashbacks to that moment that sent your life plummeting into a downward spiral, but picking up a hypospray no longer triggered them.

 

He was never far away, always managing to catch you when you were about to slide back. He would show up at the bar, throwing his arm over your shoulder, acting like _he_ was the one that needed _you_ , and hauling your drunk ass back to your dorm. He would prattle on about some inane class he was taking, asking questions that you were convinced he knew the answer to. On those bad days, he would literally tuck you in bed, telling the computer what time to wake you. And when you'd answer his question, he would beam, "Thanks, Bones!" like you had given him the answer for everything.

 

***

 

Something changed that summer. You attributed the change to the fact that he almost died on a training mission gone spectacularly wrong. He saved four people, his heroism almost costing him his own life. The hours, _days_ , you spent at his bedside, you nearly forgot how to breathe. The air shifted the moment his hand squeezed yours, as consciousness returned. When the blue you thought might be forever extinguished surfaced under heavy lids, the relief you felt was unfathomable.

 

You realized something that day. He was telling the truth so many months ago. He truly was just as lost as you were, two misfits with nothing but that in common, who had forged a friendship, a bond, that somehow kept you both from succumbing to the darkness. All this time you were convinced you were the one holding on to him for dear life, but as you looked into that blue, and felt the grip of his hand in yours, you saw that he was clinging to you just as tightly.

 

You simply needed each other.

 

***

 

Before you knew it, another semester was behind you, and it was just you and him for the winter break. You found yourself on the back of a motorcycle, your arms wrapped around him, barreling down the highway, with the ocean your only guide. You spent two weeks with just the contents of a backpack holding both of your necessities. You slept some nights with nothing more than a fire on the beach and each other to stay warm. Other nights were spent in cheap hotel rooms so you could shower and wash your clothes.

 

The first week you slept in separate beds when you got a room, but the second, without a discussion or reason, you both gravitated to one. You stood on opposite sides, staring at each other, silently acknowledging the road you were about to turn down. Sharing a bed wasn't as awkward as you thought, and when you woke up entwined, his breath on your neck, you knew you could get used this again. And you realized feeling that way didn't scare the living hell out of you anymore. Not like it did the first time you fucked someone after Jocelyn and stayed the night.

 

***

 

You grew closer, yet never crossed the line. He admitted to you one night at the bar that he'd never been with a man before. He was careful to tell you he wasn't opposed to the idea, just wary of anything that might harm your friendship. You felt the same way, but silently cursed him for looking before he leaped for once. You took solace in the fact that he never said he didn't want to be with _you_.

 

He was somewhat surprised when you told him about the men you had been with. His eyes grew wide when you mentioned the significantly older man you met your freshman year of college. You were just sixteen, yet legally emancipated, and your relationship lasted almost a year. Four months after that, you met Jocelyn, and you had been faithful to her until the divorce was final. You even admitted you prefer women, and talked about the few you've been with since your divorce. He asked if you'd been interested in any men here at Starfleet, and you surprised yourself when you answered honestly, "Just you."

 

***

 

Two months later, you were studying together on your couch. He set his padd down, and moved closer. He looked at you, waiting, studying, the blue shining brightly as his hand moved up, and his fingers brushed the hair off your forehead. You nodded your head, answering his unasked question, and moments later his lips were on yours. Softly at first, tentatively, and you shivered, letting him set the pace. He pulled back, and when you opened your eyes, you weren't prepared for the feeling that rippled through you. His eyes, that beautiful blue, were so full of longing and pure lust for you.

 

You wanted to devour him whole, but knew you had to be patient. Instead, you brought your hand up and cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing gently across it. You leaned forward, kissing him, this kiss deeper, longer and thought his lips, his mouth, might be your undoing. You gripped his face with both hands, as your mouths opened, tongues explored, teeth nipped, until you were both breathless and panting. "I'm not ready yet, Bones," he told you after more kissing, his forehead resting against yours. You nodded and he kissed you once more before getting up and leaving. You took less than a minute to jerk off once he was gone.

 

***

 

You felt like a teenager again. His mouth was on your neck, sucking, marking; his hand down your pants, wrapped around your dick. Your head was thrown back against the couch, legs splayed, gasping with each tug. He moved closer, and you felt his hard cock pressed up against your thigh and that was enough to push you over the edge. You convulsed as you came in his hand for the first time. You felt his smile against your neck as you moaned like two-bit whore. "Fuck, Jim," you gasped. "Not yet," he whispered, his tongue laving your neck.

 

When you came back to your senses, you knelt in front of him, looking him straight in the eye as you unzipped his pants and reached inside. His eyes were wild, his tongue licking the corner of his lips as you took him into your mouth for the first time. You hadn't sucked a cock since college, but your skill came back quickly. Within moments you had him writhing under you. His hands moved your head, running through your hair. You looked up enough to see his head thrown back against the couch, his mouth wide open, gulping in breaths, moaning deep in his throat as he spilled into your mouth. You licked him dry, and that night you slept in the same bed together for the first time since your Christmas trip months before.

 

***

 

Your study time turned into fooling around sessions, not that you minded. You took frequent breaks, unable to resist his mouth on yours. You loved making him come against your hand, your lips. You loved the way his hand felt on your cock, and the first time he sucked one of your balls into his mouth, you nearly bucked off the couch. You knew he'd be good, but god damn the kid was a natural. The nights you worked at the infirmary, he'd show up moments after you arrived home. Your kisses were fast, furious, and bruising. You'd stumble your way to the couch, falling in a tangled heap, the need to get into each others pants nearly frantic.

 

You were shocked a couple of weeks later at the bar, when he was flat out propositioned, and politely turned her down. It occurred to you that you hadn't seen him go home with a woman since... well since you started getting each other off. You wanted to ask him what his disinterest meant, but all you could manage was a sarcastic, "Are you sick, Jim? Turning down a blonde with a rack like that?" He simply shrugged, and brought his hand to your crotch, leaned close to your ear and whispered, "I'd rather go home with you." Ten minutes later you came in his mouth against a brick wall outside.

 

That night, you undressed each other, touching and exploring in bed for the first time.

 

***

 

The first time he fucked you, he was nervous, and that surprised you. You hid your own nerves to make him more comfortable, as you got up on all fours on the bed. You relaxed as much as you could, knowing sex might be uncomfortable since it had been so long for you. But when his first finger slid tentatively in, and then the second, you moaned at the thought that those were Jim's fingers inside you, stretching you. You looked back, the sight of him stroking himself, slick with lubricant, and the addition of a third finger made you growl, "Come on, Jim. Do it." You didn't even recognize the sound that came from your throat when he eased into you. The harsh rush of his breathing when he was sheathed in you completely made you forget to take your own breath.

 

"God, Bones. So tight," he said, sucking in a quick breath as he pulled back and thrust slowly. His hands grabbed onto your hips as he sped up, finding a rhythm, his hips slamming into you. You pushed back, your head dropping down as you fought for more oxygen. You reached for yourself and tugged, not wanting him to have to think about anything but what he was doing so fucking well. The sound of him slapping into to you, his choppy gasps and moans, and the fire that seemed to be traveling straight to your cock pushed you over the brink, and you came, groaning in blissful agony as you shook and spilled all over the bed. Four more frenzied strokes and he stiffened and followed you, turning 'Bones' into more syllables than you ever thought possible. He wrapped his arms around you as he caught his breath, dropping kisses across your back before resting his cheek there.

 

Spent, you rolled him over onto his side, spooning him. You managed to reach down and find the comforter, and pull it up over you both. You kissed the back of his neck, and wrapped your arm around his waist. His sigh as he threaded his fingers through yours sent a spark straight to your heart.

 

***

 

He fucked you eight more times in the next two weeks, as you experimented with positions. You discovered he liked you underneath him best; your feet wrapped around his back so he could lean down and kiss you. Whereas you loved him slamming into you from behind, fast and hard, his hand on your cock jerking you off. Either way, it was the best sex you'd ever had, and you were happy.

 

You climbed up onto the bed, ready for a quick and dirty fuck after a long shift at the infirmary. You looked back to see Jim climbing on behind you, wrapping his arms around your neck. "I want you to fuck me," he said in a voice so low, you weren't sure you heard him correctly. "Jim?" you questioned, turning to face him. "You heard me." You nodded and changed positions, him on his knees, griping the headboard, spreading his legs apart. You grabbed the gel, and prepped him, sliding a finger inside, then another. You'd done this before, while blowing him, but knowing you were going to fuck him this time sent a shiver down your spine straight to your dick. You added a third, stretched him slowly, and when you curled your fingers around and hit his prostate, felt his shudder, you replaced your fingers with your cock, slowly sliding into him.

 

"God, Jim," you gasped as you felt him tense around you. "Easy, darlin'," you reminded him, kissing his shoulder, and feeling him relax. You pulled back, and slid gently into him again, starting a slow, easy rhythm. "Okay?" you asked, your breath ragged. "Yeah, don't stop." His breathing was getting heavier as you sped up, reaching around, surprised to find his cock not completely limp. You moved one knee out further, getting under him more, changing your angle, and the moan that escaped his lips when you hit him in just the right spot nearly pushed you over the edge. You concentrated on him, cupping his balls, thrusting steadily as your hand wrapped around him, your thumb rubbing across the ridge of his cock, the way he liked it.

 

You smiled when his knuckles turned white on top of the headboard, his constant moaning encouraged you to be a little rougher. You felt unbelievable, tiny jolts rippling through you like waves. You sped up, rocking up into him, your hand on his cock moving faster. You knew you were close, both of you gasping, moaning, and with a few more tugs of his cock he shattered, arching up, almost shaking, his keening sound your undoing, and your orgasm tore through you. You fucking saw stars, or maybe you simply passed out, because the next thing you remember was being on your back, your arm thrown over your head, and Jim lying half on top of your chest, both of you gasping for breath.

 

Jim moved off of you, and turned onto his side. You looked over and saw that blue, those beautiful blue eyes. Those eyes that led you out of a sea of despair were shining at _you_. And only you. And when you lifted your head up to kiss him, and his hand reached over to wipe away the tears from the corner of your eye, you noticed the reason his were shining.

 

His eyes were filled with tears too.

 

 _fin_


End file.
